


the same with life

by howlingheartdemigod (helpmeimstuckon)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Beau being dramatic, F/F, heavy handed rain metaphore, short lil baby fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:37:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helpmeimstuckon/pseuds/howlingheartdemigod
Summary: Beau had grown to hate the rain. It was cold. It made the whole world look dingy and gray. It made moving the cart horrible, with the mud and all. It took Yasha away. That was the real rub. They’d woken up that morning to find the storm had soaked their campsite and taken their friend.-Beau broods in the rain.





	the same with life

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr. find me there at howlingheartdemigod  
> leave me a comment if you like it  
> Title from an atticus poem (because apparently i'm digging his stuff for titles these days)
> 
> "The rain can make us sad  
> until we see closely the beauty of a single raindrop  
> And so to the same with life"

Beau had grown to hate the rain. It was cold. It made the whole world look dingy and gray. It made moving the cart horrible, with the mud and all. It took Yasha away. That was the real rub. They’d woken up that morning to find the storm had soaked their campside and taken their friend. 

“Maybe it’ll be a short trip.” Jester broke the silence they empty space had left. “Maybe she’ll be back by tonight and we’ll meet her in town.” 

“Maybe Jes.” Beau replied, “Maybe.

 

* * *

 

The storm moved on, the sun dried the land out, they got paid for the job they’d been returning from, Yasha was still gone. 

She was gone for weeks. None of them felt totally comfortable moving on without her, but moving along the road was the best option. She would find them. She always did. 

Beau watched the horizon for signs of a storm, hopeful, expectant, disappointed. She hated storms. She hated the cold. The way it hit like sheets, making it hard to see. The way one just refused to hit. 

She is going to come back, Beauregard.” Caleb said, not looking up from his book. 

Beau had been staring forlorn at the sky for a long while, a stitching her lungs too tight to breathe quite right. “She hasn’t been gone this long since before Nicodranas. Just makes me nervous.”

“She will come back.” He repeated., turning a page. “And she doesn’t always ride the storm back to us.” 

“Sometimes she does.” Beau replied, scowling at the sky, arms crossing. 

“Beauregard.” He said, putting his book down, looking over. “You can’t spend your days waiting on a storm that may never come.”

Beau nearly called him a hypocrite, but when she glanced over, the look in his eye told her he already knew. Beau let out a little sigh, searching once more for the clouds, then turning her gaze away from the sky.

 

* * *

 

Beau fucking hated the rain. It came at the worst times. She glared at the sky, cursing herself for agreeing to take last watch. 

She hunkered down into her cloak, letting out a breath, her breath turning to mist in front of her from the sudden chill.

“You can see your breath.” called a soft voice near behind her. 

 

Beau hated the rain, but there was something little about it that didn’t suck, she decided, pressed against Yasha’s warm frame, the woman’s hands framing her face as they kissed. What the rain returned to her, that she loved. 


End file.
